


Chasing Butterflies

by napsushi



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Makkachin Dies (Yuri!!! on Ice), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Rating May Change, Vicchan Lives
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-07 03:16:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26420098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/napsushi/pseuds/napsushi
Summary: Before the free skate at the Grand Prix Final in Sochi, Victor receives an unfortunate call. Wondering how he'll be able to move on with his life, it is suddenly turned upside down in a whirlwind by the name of Yuuri Katsuki.
Relationships: Katsuki Yuuri & Victor Nikiforov, Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 17
Kudos: 70





	1. The Show Must Go On

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to my latest fic! I'm currently putting Dear Katsudamn on hiatus because I'm absolutely burnt out on it, so I'm going to be focusing on other works in its place.
> 
> In order to try and avoid burn out on this fic, chapters will be short most likely.

Victor’s phone dropped to the hotel room floor, his hand shaking too much to hold it anymore, and tears pricking the edges of his eyes, threatening to fall. Taking a deep breath, he rubbed his eyes and the offending droplets away, willing his hands to stay still. He couldn’t afford to feel right now, he had another competition to win in only a few hours. It didn’t matter that Makkachin - his pet, his friend - was dead. The world moved on, and so would he. Victor would have plenty of time to mourn when he returned to St Petersburg; he tried to shake away the thoughts of the empty apartment that awaited him.

Victor stood, grabbing his skate bag and his free skate costume and decided to make his way to the arena. The Ladies’ Singles free skate would be wrapping up soon, then it would be the Mens’ free. Victor - unsurprisingly - was in first after the short, so he wouldn’t be skating until the end of the competition. He wished deeply he could just get it over with so he could slip silently back home. 

Victor entered the skater’s only area of the arena, searching for his coach. He found the grumpy old man in a corner with Mila, who looked like she had just finished her free skate. Victor barely acknowledged the both of them, merely nodding so his coach knew he was there before going to the locker room to change into his costume. Based on the look he had received from Yakov - a rare sight of worry embedding in his wrinkles - Victor assumed that the man already knew about Makkachin. Lilia probably called him right after she had hung up the phone with Victor. He felt slightly relieved at that, it saved him from having to explain his less than pleasant mood.

Victor was the first of the men's skaters to arrive in the locker room, and he found himself letting out a small sigh of relief, just a small amount of the tension in his shoulders escaping his frame. At least until the other skaters arrived he wouldn’t have to hide the anguish from appearing on his face, though Victor doubted he’d been very successful at that thus far.

Victor robotically made his way through getting ready - showering, putting on his costume, doing his hair. It was almost relaxing, letting himself fall back into routine. He could almost ignore the bags under his eyes as he inspected himself in the mirror, covering what minor blemishes he had with concealer, and attempting to cover the darkness around his eyes as well.

Just then he observed someone entering the locker rooms through the reflection in the mirror, a smaller man with dark hair and mahogany eyes behind blue-rimmed glasses. Victor recognized him as the Japanese skater competing in his bracket, who finished 4th after the short program - which was rather respectable for his first Grand Prix Final qualification. He could still make the podium if he really nailed his free skate.

Once he’d entered the locker room and placed his skate bag on one of the benches, the younger skater looked up, and for a moment his eyes met with Victor’s in the mirror. Victor watched as the man’s face turned the shade of a tomato faster than he could blink, and he looked away from Victor almost as fast, suddenly very interested in a spot on the locker room floor.

Victor smirked to himself at the display, all too used to younger skaters immediately running up to him and asking for photos and selfies and other varying degrees of his attention. Normally he liked it, but right now he appreciated the change of pace; he didn’t have it in him to pretend to be happy right now.

As soon as Victor finished getting ready, he began to make his way back out of the locker room, only just stopping inside the door when a quiet voice called his name from behind him. He turned to see the other skater - oh, his name was Katsuki or something, wasn't it? - looking at the ground, his hands fidgeting together in what seemed to be a nervous gesture.

Just as Victor is about to ask what he wanted, Katsuki looks up, meeting his eyes with a look of gentle concern. "Um… Are you… Are you okay, Victor?"

Victor felt the split second that he lost control of his mask as if it were an eternity. A split second where his face went from shock at the question, then as it shifted to some sort of melancholy. A single second, and yet it was still time when he wasn't in control. As soon as he realized it, Victor schooled his expression back to his default Media Smile. He tossed a wink he didn't feel at the other man as he said in a too chipper voice, "Oh, I'm just fine, don't you worry."

Katsuki looked like he didn't believe Victor, but thankfully decided not to push it as he looked back down at the floor and stammered a reply, "Oh, um, okay… Uh… good luck."

Victor’s smile turned a little bit more genuine as he said, “Thanks, you too,” then turned and walked out of the room, making his way to the skater’s area to warm up. As soon as Yakov caught sight of him, the coach approached his student. 

Victor sat on the ground and began stretching as the elder man loomed over him, appraising him closely before speaking. “Can you skate?”

Victor nodded. “Of course I can skate.”

Yakov placed a warm, heavy hand on Victor’s shoulder, squeezing in reassurance. The coach didn’t need to say anything, Victor knew he had his sympathy and support.

Yakov pulled Victor to the ice to finish his warm ups as the men’s singles competition began in earnest, the coach inspecting the other competitors with a trained eye, and was grumbling to Victor on who could be a potential threat. Victor was only half listening to Yakov, but perked up when the coach mentioned Katsuki. 

“What did you say?” Victor questioned, wanting to know what Yakov thought of the shy skater.

Yakov grumbled, not liking to repeat himself, “I said that Katsuki kid might be trouble. His spins are beautifully executed and his step sequences could rival yours if he actually lets himself step up to the challenge.” Victor raised his eyebrows in mild shock at the open praise his coach was giving the other skater, then Yakov continued with his more characteristic critiquing, “His biggest flaw is his jumps, he can barely land a quadruple toe-loop. I’ve seen him attempt to land a quadruple salchow, but he always looks too scared of the jump to land it properly.” Yakov huffed, then turned to Victor, a more serious glint in his eye. “But if he ever does learn to jump, you’re in trouble.”

As if summoned, Victor heard the aforementioned skater’s name called overhead, indicating it was his turn to skate. Victor stopped stretching and walked closer to the barrier, watching as Katsuki skated a couple laps around the rink to warm up and greet the crowd.

The Japanese skater seemed nervous as he skated into his starting position, but after taking a deep breath the look melted into one of sheer determination. Victor wasn’t surprised, it was Katsuki’s first Final.

Soft piano keys echoed overhead as Katsuki started his routine. Yakov had been right when he said the younger skater was exceptional when it came to spins and step sequences, and Victor found himself feeling breathless as he watched Katsuki glide along the ice as if he was born to be there, a feeling Victor could sympathize with.

At first it seemed Katsuki was doing well on his jumps, at this point mostly triples, and he’d even landed his quad toe-loop with just a little wobble on the landing. It was when the Japanese skater tried his quad salchow that he fumbled, slipping and hitting the ice hard. Victor visibly winced at it, knowing the pain of falling all too well, but Katsuki got right back up and continued his program with a look of frustration on his face. He managed to land his next jumps - a quad toe-loop/double toe-loop combination - without much difficulty, and all he had left was a choreographic sequence left. 

Victor found himself captivated by Katsuki to the very end. The younger skater seemed to have a drive behind his skating that Victor felt he had lost long ago. As the Japanese skater spun into his finishing pose, chest heaving from the exertion the routine put on his body, Victor found himself clapping enthusiastically. Looking closely at Katsuki’s face as he stepped off the ice, he seemed to be satisfied with what he had achieved, and as his scores came in and pushed him above the other two skaters that had already gone, that satisfaction morphed into a huge grin of pride. According to the commentators, Katsuki had just beaten his personal best score for the free skate.

It felt strange, seeing someone so happy when Victor felt like he was going through a storm in his own soul. Victor went back to his warm-ups, hoping they would distract him from his thoughts. He had to focus on the competition.

All too soon, they were calling for Victor to take to the ice. Victor half listened as Yakov did his usual pre-routine lecture, Victor nodding at the right intervals as he removed his skate guards and removed his skate jacket. He handed the garment to Yakov, then pushed off the barrier, forcing his face into a smile as he made his way around the rink and greeted the audience. He acknowledged the judges, then came to a stop in the middle of the rink, assuming his starting position.

The first note of Aria echoed through the arena as Victor began, looking up towards the ceiling then dipping back down as he began to glide across the icy surface. The song was about wanting a lover to stay. Needing them to never leave your side. Victor managed to translate his mourning over Makkachin into his skating, his need to have his dear old friend back in every slice his skates dug into the surface. Victor lost himself into the program before his mind could travel too far down unwanted paths of thought. He only needed to channel the emotion into his movements, not feel it, not now.

The next four minutes seemed to drag on forever, and Victor could feel that his performance was not up to par with where he needed it to be. He was spinning into his final pose before long, and he barely held it before dropping and going through the motions of bowing to the audience and judges again before hurrying to the edge of the ice to replace his skate guards and head to the kiss and cry.

He was in first place of course, but only barely. Christophe, his friend and rival, was only below him by a measly 2.28 points. Even though he had won, this wasn’t a victory that Victor could feel proud of. Hopefully it would keep his sponsors happy at the very least.

Victor couldn’t wait for this nightmare to be over with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please kudos! Comments are my lifeblood and feed me for weeks.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Victor breaks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nearly half a year later and this fic is still alive!! So sorry to keep you all waiting. I got so absorbed into my other fic that I neglected this one. I hope not to let that happen again.

As soon as Victor left the kiss and cry he was swarmed by the media, each of them throwing questions at him with a kind of desperation only journalists could have. Victor gave in to it reluctantly, knowing media presence was a huge part of his career that he couldn’t avoid. He gestured at a young reporter, letting her get the first question.

“Victor, how did you feel about your performance today?” she asked before shoving her microphone in his face. It was a typical question, and Victor wasn’t at all surprised by it.

Plastering a smile on his face and shifting his stance so his body language read as more open, Victor answered her, “I’ll admit, I didn’t do as well as I had wanted to. My head wasn’t in the right space and the performance suffered for it. I hope to bring my game back up to par in time for the European Championship.”

A different reporter shoved his microphone forward as he asked his question, “Why wasn’t your head in the right space? Does this setback mean retirement for you soon?”

Victor fought to keep the smile on his face, willed his anger and frustration to stay buried. Every season for the past couple of years reporters would ask about his retirement, especially if his performance wasn’t 100% absolute perfection. It didn’t matter if he still won gold, he had to demolish the competition as well. Victor took a deep breath to calm himself, his voice more cheery than the reporter deserved as he gave his response, “The answer to the first question is personal and I have no comments on it at this time. As for the second, I have no current plans for retirement. I’ll probably be on my deathbed before I give up the ice!”

Chuckles rumbled through the crowd, and the interview continued for a short while with more questions on his routine and plans for the future. Victor expertly talked his way around the questions, giving vague answers or deflecting with a joke. When Yakov pulled him from the mass of media, Victor had to repress a grateful sigh. 

The official press conference was next, Victor sitting down between the silver and bronze medalists. Chris had won silver as usual, but to Victor’s left was Yuuri Katsuki with his newly won bronze around his neck. The man looked like a deer caught in headlights, and would stutter every time a question was directed at him. Victor noticed that the other man kept looking over at him, a look of disbelief on his face as if he didn’t know how he got there. Victor thought it was a little amusing, Yuuri had skated a fabulous program and he didn't seem to realize it.

Victor called on the next reporter to answer his question, and had to resist glaring at the man when he spoke.

"Victor! How do you feel about your free skate today? Some have noted that you seemed quite upset on the ice. Is your personal life affecting your skating, and could it lead to you possibly retiring soon?"

"I have no comment on that at this time." Victor said flatly. "I believe we're done here today." Victor stood up and walked towards the doors as a wave of shouts and flashing lights followed him.

As soon as he was in the hallway he heard the doors open and shut behind him again, and he didn't even have to turn around to know it was his coach yelling at him to get back in there. Victor stood for a moment, shoulders stiff and voice quiet as he spoke.

"I just need a moment, Yakov. I'll be back for the exhibition, don't worry." And he walked off without another word.

Victor turned many corners and went down various hallways before he decided to go into a random men's restroom. 

Victor stood at the stink, gripping the edges of it and leaning his weight forward against it with his head hanging low. All the anguish seemed to bubble up and burst in that moment, and he didn't realize he was crying until a tear fell and landed on his hand. Victor didn't even bother to try and stop though, sobs seeming to heave from his chest with full force as his mind swirled with memories of his sweet Makkachin, and the final realization that he would never be able to hold his baby in his arms again, would never be able to take him on walks or play with him in the park. In the blink of an eye, all of it was gone.

Victor didn't even process the sound of the door opening and closing behind him until he heard a soft, hesitant voice speak up, hardly audible as it was barely a whisper.

"V-Victor?"

Victor's head whipped up and he looked at the reflection in the mirror to see the intruder. There in front of the door stood Yuuri Katsuki, his eyes wide as they met Victor's, and for a moment they just stared at each other. Yuuri was the first to look away, mumbling an apology as he turned quickly to leave.

"Wait!"

Yuuri stopped with his back to Victor and his hand on the door, and Victor tried to think why he'd said that. Why he didn't want Yuuri to leave.

While Victor's mind was still swirling, Yuuri turned slowly back to him, his eyes taking in the state Victor was in before asking, "Victor, are you okay?"

It was the same question the man had asked Victor before they had skated, but this time Victor couldn't deflect it. The evidence was all over his face and streaming down his cheeks - no, he was not okay.

Victor turned so he could face Yuuri, breathing heavily as he tried to control his sobs, but they just returned in full force and he let out a pitiful sound as he fell to his knees and continued to cry. 

He should have been embarrassed, crying in front of a skater he had only just met, but the emotions already swirling in his head and his heart left no room for something so trivial. The fact of the matter was, Victor did not want to feel it alone right now. So he sat there, bearing his heart to this skater and hoping he wouldn't take advantage of it.

Victor hears Yuuri step forward and kneel in front of him, and flinches slightly when he feels a hand on his shoulder, but eventually relaxes into it. He doesn’t resist when Yuuri pulls him into a hesitant hug, and the other skater rests Victor’s head on his chest. Yuuri's bronze metal is cold against Victor's cheek, and he can feel the slow rise and fall of Yuuri’s breathing, and finds himself slowly matching the calm rhythm.

Eventually the sobs stop, and Victor realizes Yuuri is petting his hair and murmuring something soothing in what Victor assumes is Japanese. Victor moves his arms to wrap around Yuuri and finally return the embrace, whispering a soft, “Thank you…”

Yuuri hums, shaking his head. "It's nothing, I'm just happy I could help you…"

Victor sits up so he can look at Yuuri, but his arms stay wrapped around the man's sides, his hands holding onto the fabric of Yuuri's team jacket. "How did you do that? How did you know it would even work?" Victor asks, because honestly this man must be some kind of miracle worker.

Yuuri looks down at his lap, his hands still on Victor's shoulders, and a faint blush painting his cheeks. "Uhm, well, I have experience with panic attacks that… that can leave me crying like that, and well, uhm, even though I don't know why you're so upset I figured I had to do  _ something _ ." Yuuri pauses for a moment, before continuing, "Your breathing was erratic, and feeling someone else calmer than you can help regulate it. My roommate back in America helps me like this whenever I have an attack."

Victor's eyes widen a bit at the honesty Yuuri is showing, and he looks down as well before muttering, "M-my… My dog died… last night." Victor swallows the lump forming in his throat, refusing to cry again. "He'd been having heart problems for a few weeks and before I left for the final… he seemed to be getting better, but…"

"Oh, Victor… I- I'm so sorry…" Victor hears the hitch in Yuuri's voice and looks up to see tears now streaming down his face as well. "If my dog died… I don't know if I'd be holding up even half as well as you are. Victor, you are so very strong to be going through this."

Before Victor can think of a reply, the door is kicked in, and he looks up to see a very angry Yuri Plisetsky glaring at him from the doorway.

"Victor! There you are, Yakov has been looking for- wait, what the fuck are you doing on the floor with that second-rate loser?"

Yuuri immediately pulled away from Victor, and Victor had to stop himself from pouting at the loss of the embrace. Instead he narrowed his eyes at the blonde intruder, speaking in a low voice. "Yura, don't insult him. He just won bronze, that's a far cry from being 'second rate' or a 'loser'." Victor takes a deep breath, centering himself before saying, "Now would you please, get out."

Yuri rolls his eyes with a scoff. "Fine. But if Yakov blows a blood vessel when you're not at the hotel later, it's your own damn fault." 

The feisty kitten leaves, the door slamming loudly in the now quiet bathroom. The two skaters stare at the door for a few moments, before Victor shakes himself back and stands, holding a hand out to Yuuri. "Don't mind him, he's filled with teenage angst and rebellion."

Yuuri takes Victor's hand and stands up as well, a light pink blush tinting his cheeks. "You okay?"

Victor shrugs, "Yura doesn't bother me much, he's always like that." Victor gives Yuuri a small smile. "But, yes, I'm okay. Thank you for being here for me."

The two skaters then left the bathroom, both needing to prepare themselves for that night's exhibition skate, and then the banquet.

The entire time Yuuri was out skating his exhibition piece, Victor found that he couldn't take his eyes off of him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please comment and kudos! Your input means the world to me!


End file.
